Elaborate Lives
by HC247
Summary: Pocahontas meets Aida. Pocahontas is captured and taken to England by John Smith and his crew. Agaisnt all odds and logic, they fall in love, setting into motion a string of events that will ultimatly be their demise.....and their legacy. Please RR
1. Overture

This is a very new endeavor for me. I have taken Pocahontas and crossed it with one of my favorite musicals, Aida

The story is completely AU and has little to do with the movie or historical fact at all. However, i feel that the story of Aida is one that could be transposed inot this time period with soimilar character. I hope you will give it a chance.

It helps to be familar w/ the plot of Aida and if you are not, feel free to email me and I will be happy to either send you a summary of the play or post in in the next chapter. Without it, one could easily get confused, but it will all be exlained in time.

I hope you enjoy this fic and keeep an open mind to the story itself. Please be sure to leave a review on you way out! Thank you again and here we go..

"Elaborate Lives"

...00000...

Prologue

_Metroploitain Musuem of Art  
Modern Day, New York City_

_I just knew this would happen. I just knew it! _

Paige stopped dead in the center of the hallway and looked around. Why did Nicole have to take off on her own? The surrounding walls were covered from paintings from all of the different historical eras and different artistic styles. Idly, she examined each one as she strolled along the corridor, waiting for her friend to come and find her.

_This is what she gets for just taking off and leaving me here. _Paige sighed and once again checked her watch. This whole outing had been Nic's crazy idea. When word had gotten out that the Metropolitan was featuring an exhibit of early English artwork, Nicole had flipped. Always the artist, she had continuously begged Paige to go with her until she finally relented. So, this morning they had awoken early and arrived at the museum by eight so they would have all day to look at the art.

Of course to Paige, it was about as much fun as going to the dentist.

But, like the faithful best friend she was, she had allowed Nicole to drag her through room after room of what Nicole had called "the prime of the artistic world."

And how does she repay her?

By taking off and leaving Paige in a maze of paintings, sculptures, and drawings.

"Come on, Nicole. Where are you?" Paige muttered as she glanced at her watch once more. It had now been a good half hour since she had last seen her friend and the museum was closing shortly. The woman glanced up, only to have something catch her interest. On the wall in front of her hung a series of painting entitled "Old World meets New." and she moved closer inspect them.

The first two portraits hung side by side, one of a classy-looking woman with lovely features, fair skin, and light blonde hair. Under the painting was a plaque positioned under it and Paige leant in to read what it said. _Lady Abigail Stone was known for her frivolous nature and expensive tastes. Yet she also possessed a generosity and depth that only her family and closest friends saw. _

Paige blinked a couple of times, as if drawn in my the woman's natural beauty and grace. It was almost as if she had seen her before. Stepping back she shook her head and shifted her attention to the painting that hung next to it. The second painting was that of a native man, his face hard and almost uncaring. Glancing down at the plaque, she read the inscription._ Not much is known of the painting or of the man it contains. There is, however, reason to believe that he was an iatrical part of Lady Stone's life, though no one know exactly how. _

If she had felt a connection to the woman's painting, this one was now almost uncanny. I feel like I know him. Squinting hard, she took another look at the paintings. Maybe he was one of her ancestors. Her parents had told her that her ancestors were Native American, but the family records had been lost in a fire almost two centuries ago. Paige glanced from one to the other. That had to be it.

The shrill ring of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts and she saw it was her long lost friend. "Hello Nicole." She began moving down the hall as she talked. "Yes, I'm still at the museum. Where are you? Nicole, that's on the other side of the building!" A sigh. "Yes, I'll wait here. I'm in the Old meets New exhibit. Yep. Okay. See you in a few."

She flipped the phone shut and turned back to look at the rest of the exhibit, however she found herself ramming into something very hard. Slightly dazed, she looked up into the bluest eyes she had ever seen and a deep voice filled her ears.

"I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"

His voice held a hint of an English accent and Paige found herself trying to regain some equilibrium. "I'm fine."

The man smiled. He had short blonde hair that was slightly spiked on the top, sapphire eyes that lit up when he smiled, and strong features. "Forgive my manners. I'm Jonathan." He held out his hand.

She accepted it. "Paige. I'm sorry about that. I didn't see you there."

"Not a problem." He released her hand and turned to glance at the paintings. "You're an artist?"

She snorted. "Hardly. I'm waiting for my friend. She abandoned me in favor of late 17th century impressionism."

He laughed. "I have a friend like that."

She laughed with him and then heard a deep masculine voice. _"Do you think the time has finally come?"_

"I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

He turned to look at her in surprise. "What?"

She turned, embarrassed. "Nothing. My mistake. Instead she turned her attention back to the wall and her eyes widened in astonishment. The painting of the man now had his eye's focused on the portrait of Lady Stone instead of forward like they had been before. Paige immediately brought her gaze to the floor. _I must be losing it._

But then she distinctly heard a soft feminine voice. _"I do believe the time is upon us."_

Snapping her eyes back to the paintings, she saw that Lady Stone's eyes were now focused on the native man as well. "Impossible" she murmured to herself.

"What's impossible?" Jonathan's questioning eyes were upon her.

She immediately felt the heat creep up her face. "Nothing. I'm just thinking."

He said nothing, only glanced at the clock on the wall. "Wow. Forgive me, but I have to get going or I'll be in the same situation as you." He offered a sympathetic smile. "Hope you find your friend. Nice to meet you."

"You too." She waved as he walked away and she moved on to see the rest of the exhibit.

"Paige!" Her attention was caught as she noticed Nicole hurrying towards her. "There you are! Come on. The museum is closing. We have to leave."

"Coming." As Nicole grabbed her arm and began to lead her away, Paige turned to cast a final glance at the last two paintings in the gallery, one of a man, ruggedly handsome and daring, and the other of a woman, spirited and exquisitely beautiful.

_"I do believe the time is upon us."_


	2. Fortune Favors The Brave

It seems that most of you are confused by what is going on, I have posted a link to the summary in my profile, as it is much to long to fit here.

A quick note about the characterizations: I am basing their personalities off of the characters in the play, rather than their pseronalities in the movie.. In the beginning, Radames and Aida do not like each other at all, much thw way Pocahontas John act in this chapter. I am using the script as a guideline, and some parts are almost identical, only because there is no other way for me to rewrite them. I have tried to deviate as much as possible, but a few sections still remain the same.

Thank you to all of you who reviewed! This story is quickly becoming a labor of love for me and I hope you are enjoying reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. Thanks you agian to all who reviewed! Your comments are much appreciated and I hope you will keep reading and reviewing!

...0000...

Chapter 1-Fortune Favors The Brave

"Captain! Where would you have us put all of this?"

Captain John Smith turned form the map he was inspecting to answer the call of his steward. "Just a moment, Thomas. I'll be right with you." Turning back to the cartographer, he clapped the young man on the shoulder and said. "See what you can do with the landscape. I'll be back to check your progress."

With a final glance at the piece of paper, John ran a hand through his golden hair and made his way to the lower deck where his first mate waited patiently for him. Thomas was still quite young, but John thought he showed great promise. He was bright for his age and a fast leaner.

He had gotten his position as steward by influence alone; his father was a schoolmate of Lord Stone's and a good friend of John's father as well. At first John had resented the boy, he had everything handed to him when John had to work his way up from a dock hand to the captain he was today. However as time passed, the captain had grown fond of the younger man, now viewing him as a younger brother of sorts. Thomas worked hard, despite John's harsh treatment at first and that had earned his the respect that was so rare on the seas.

"What seems to be the problem, Thomas?"

The boy's eyes were wide with excitement. "This treasure, John!" The privilege of a first name were usually reserved for private times only, but in all the excitement, Thomas had forgotten.

John saw no need to remind him now. "What about it?"

"There's so much!" Thomas swept a hand over the gold-filled interior of one of the storage cabins. "I've never seen so much gold in all of my life!" he turned back to look at his friend. "And I was raised in a wealthy family."

The captain couldn't help but smirk at his steward's enthusiasm. "Fortune favor the brave, my boy." He allowed his eyes to take in all of the wealth before him. "I told you that from the beginning."

Thomas nodded. 'You were also right about the Spanish."

John grinned and drew his sword. "About them being lousy fighters? I told you that before we attacked."

The younger man shook his head. "I meant about there wealth! It's unbelievable! A middle class family in England could live for a year off of what we have here and it isn't even a quarter of what they had." His hand went to the hat that covered his red hair. "I assumed you would take much more than this."

John sheathed his sword and shrugged. "The ship wouldn't hold anymore. Besides" He smirked and placed a hand on Thomas's shoulder. "We can't let our heads get too big, now can we?"

Thomas smirked and asked. "Are we about ready to leave?"

Another shrug. "Sometime soon. Why? Are you anxious to get home?"

The boy flushed a deep crimson. "In a way. Don't get me wrong, I've had a right good time with you on this voyage, but my heart is somewhere else."

John chuckled and slapped Thomas on the back once more. "Pining for a lady, are you? Well, the more power to you. As for me, the sea always has been and always will be first in my heart. She's the only love I've ever known."

The sudden call of "Captain! Come quickly!" filled the air and the men glanced at one another before responding to the call.

"The last thing I need right now is a mutiny." John grumbled as he drew his sword and charged to the upper deck, Thomas close behind. Upon reaching his destination, he skidded to a stop. "What seems to be the problem, men? We have a tight schedule to keep and the last thing we need to do is fall behind in His Majesty's orders." He scanned the deck until he saw a group of his soldiers guarding a group of native women. All stood nervously together, some clinging to one another and looking quite scared.

All but one.

She met his gaze in a defiant glare, her head held regally high. Her dark eyes were narrow and John swore he could see sparks shooting from their depths. Her features were hard and uncaring and, if she ever dared smile, he thought that she could have been quite lovely.

Seeing no threat from a group of ere women, the captain sheathed his sword, linked his hands behind his back, and strolled toward them. "Well, well, well. What have we here."

One of the soldiers stepped forward. "We found them wandering by the river, Captain." He pushed the woman in the front of the group violently forward. "This one put of quite the fight."

John glanced at her and then nodded. "Did you see any others?"

"No sir." The soldier glanced at his comrades. "We think they were out alone."

John's brow rose. "Really?" Turning to the woman the soldier had pushed, he spoke. "Strangers attack you land and yet you feel it is safe to wander idly around the river?" He shook his head. "Either you are very brave or have a burning desire to see England."

She glared in his face. "You've spoken it all in a single word. This is our land and you have no right to be here!"

"Is that so?" John smirked. He had to admit, this woman had spunk. "Well, no need to fear. We plan to be on our way very soon." Turning to his crew, he began to shout orders. "Prepare for departure! Set course for England. We're going home, gentlemen!"

A horrified look crossed her face. "What about us? Surely you don't instead for us to stand here forever?"

"Of course. My apologies. Will!" John called to a soldier standing off to the side. "Show our guests to the brink. And as for this one." He allowed his gaze to sweep over her. "Perhaps some chains will help to tame her tongue."

" You can't. Surely you don't mean that!" John turned his back and began walking away from her protests.

"Captain!" His attention was once again caught by the cartographer. "I think I've got it. How does it look to you, sir."

John studied it for a moment. "It looks good. There's only one thing that must be changed. This here." He pointed to a point on the map. "It doesn't look quite right. From the mast of the ships it curves more to the South. So just..here let me do it." He motioned for the quill.

A commotion from behind startled the captain and he almost completely destroyed the part of the map that he was working on. "What the devil-

He turned to see the sprite of a woman holding one of his soldiers hostage, a sword to the poor man's throat. The rest of the captives looked on anxiously, waiting to see how the events would unfold.

The woman challenged him with her eyes. "I demand that you release them!'

John chuckled. "And why would I do that?"

Her eyes went wide with horror. "Because I have one of your men's lives in my hands. Surely you would not allow him to die."

He gave an indifferent shrug. "I have many men on this ship. One life could hold very little meaning."

The captive soldier was beginning to realize that his captain might actually let this woman kill him and sent John a pleading look. However, the woman hadn't noticed. "You mean that this one life means absolutely nothing to you? In my land, each life is respected and protected to the fullest extent."

He had played right into his trap. "Ah, but now you are on my ship, so now we play my by rules." He stepped forward. " You belong to me. Now hand over the sword."

Instead she defiantly held it closer to the soldiers neck. "You took us form our home, so now we belong to you, do we?"

He cocked his head. "You're beginning to get the picture."

She allowed a ghost of a smile to cross her face. "Well, I took this man from you command. Now by your logic, he is now mine." Her smile became victorious. "Now let them go."

John smiled. "Check, milady. I however," he motioned to he soldiers, who surrounded the woman from all sides, swords drawn. "Have the won the match." Another motion and a sword was at her neck. "Checkmate."

Seeing she had been defeated, she dropped the sword and released her grip on the captive man, who scurried away before anyone had another chance to grab him. Another man grabbed the woman's arms. "What shall we do with her, captain? If it were up to me, I'd throw her in the river. She won't give us any more trouble then."

John studied her. The defiance had once again returned to her amber eyes and she lifted her chin in the air, daring him to go though with the drastic deed. He hesitated and then motioned for them to follow him. "No. I have other plans for this one."

…0000.…

Pocahontas winced at the tight grip that the soldier had on her arm. Why, oh, why, hadn't she listened to he father and stayed in the village? He had always warned her that her spirited nature would get her into trouble on day and now here she was.

On a strange ship, headed God knows where, with no knowledge of whether she would even live to see tomorrow.

When the men had first come upon them, Pocahontas had thought they could outrun them, but they had proven to be faster than she had given the credit for. And now she was at the mercy of the most infuriating man she had ever meant! He was arrogant, self-centered and mocked her to her own face! How he managed to maintain control of his crew was a mystery in itself.

They had gone below deck to what looked like a living area. One corner held a bed and dresser. The other held a writing desk and a carpet covered half of the room. The other half looked barren. Pocahontas could only guess what it was used for.

The captain turned to the guard. "Leave us."

"Yes, sir." The man bowed and did so, leaving Pocahontas to defend herself against the captain, who came towards her with a raised hand.

She felt herself flinch. "Don't!"

He looked at her in surprise and lowered his hands. "You do not wish me to remove you chains?" Her eyes widened and she lifted her hands to him. He removed the shackles and tossed them on the floor nearby. "They'll only get in they way as it is." He replaced the key on his desk and turned back to her. "I must say, that was very impressive up there. Perhaps I should enlist you into my army. Make you a soldier."

Her brow why. "Are you mocking me, Captain?"

He glanced at her. "No. The opposite actually." She was quiet as he brought a stool to the middle of the room, along with a bucket of water and a sponge. His hand went to the buttons on his shirt. "Do you know what is going to happen now?" He released the final buttons and shrugged out of his shirt, standing bare-chested in front of her. Pocahontas swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. _Please, no! _The captain seated himself on the stool and nodded toward the bucket. "You are going to scrub the filth of battle from my skin. Make sure you do a good job It's been a long time since I've felt clean."

Pocahontas felt the sudden urge to slap the smirk off of this man's face. Instead, she took out her anger out with the sponge, scrubbing his back with much more force than necessary.

John flinched. "It seems you're much better with a sword than you are a sponge."

Pocahontas glared down at him. "I wish I had a sword now." She muttered.

"Mine is right there. Help yourself." She ignored them and he asked. "Who taught you how to handle such a weapon?"

She answered softly. "My father."

He snorted. "Smart move. He must have known that his own men can't protect their women."

That was enough. Pocahontas slammed the sponge back into the bucket and walked away. John turned to her. "Where do you're think you are going? You're not done!"

She spun. "Yes, I am."

He rose. "Do you enjoy living dangerously?"

She met his glare. "Only about as much as I enjoy being in your company and scrubbing your filthy skin."

Pocahontas kicked the bucket and water sloshed everywhere. The captain's irate gaze flew from the bucket and back to her an he rose a hand. "You go to far! You-"

"No!." Her response startled even her. "You know nothing of me! Or of my people. You think that you and your army can simply invade our land, take us captive and expect us to serve you. You take everything we own for yourselves, yet the one thing you want, you will never have. You may have our bodies and skills by force, by you will never have our spirit. For that is what matter's most."

He seemed almost entranced by her. "What is your name?"

She glanced at him. "Pocahontas."

A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Beautiful."

A voice from above interrupted them. "Captain! We're ready to deport. You're needed above deck."

The captain raced across the room for the shackles and forced them back onto her wrists. Pocahontas looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Please. Leave them off."

John glanced up at her. "You're a slave now, Pocahontas. It would be in your best interest to remember that. Without another word, he shrugged his shirt back on, hurriedly buttoning it, and bolted toward, the door, shouting orders for departure.

Pocahontas sat down on the bed, knowing that any moment, someone would come and take her to the others. The past was now a distant memory, the future was not pleasant, and the future uncertain. The native sighed and placed her chin in her hands. The cold metal bit into her skin and she winced. Life as she knew it was over


	3. How I Know You

The journey had taken months

Four long months at sea and yet Pocahontas felt no more comfort than she had when they had first been taken captive. Ironic to her state of mind, the brilliant sun shone it's rays over the crystal blue waters, clothing everything in a transparent cloak of golden light, a color so close to that of the captain's hair.

_You're doing it again_

Pocahontas grit her teeth and lowered her head to the wooden side of the ship, letting out a frustrated groan. Why did that man keep crossing her mind? Despite the momentary kindness he had demonstrated toward her in a fleeting moment during their meeting, he continued to infuriate her to no end. She would see him from time to time when the captives were allowed some time on deck for fresh air and neither had made it a point to even acknowledge the other's existence.

The was perfectly fine with her.

For all that she cared, Captain John Smith, as she learned was his name, could mind his own business and never speak a word to her. Opportunities had arisen, however, and in those times his only words were constant reminders of her new enslavement. Her only response would be a glare in his direction and a desire to slap the incessant smirk of his face that would appear every time. Her father was constantly warning her of her quick tongue and it took everything within her to stop any biting response that threatened to spill forth. The man had a way of pushing her to limits that she never thought she would see.

"Pocahontas?"

She turned to see her best friend from childhood approach the deck and offered a smile. "Hello Nakoma."

The other woman came to stand beside her on the deck. "It is so comforting to feel the breeze on my face again." Her eyes were closed as she inhaled the salty air. "How kind of the captain to allow us this time, don't you think?"

Pocahontas held back a groan. Although she hated to admit it, Nakoma did have a point. They _were_ treated better than most slaves. Each day, the captives were allowed two hours on deck to wander as they pleased. Guards were posted to make sure none tried to jump ship and escape, but other than that they were free to enjoy the fresh air. Even their meals were actual food and not slop that so many others seemed to have.

"Perhaps it is because we are women." Nakoma had mused one day. "Or it could be that the captain is kinder than most on the sea. Don't you think, Pocahontas?"

"Perhaps he is kind." _Kind of arrogant, self-centered, and egotistical_

Whatever the reason, and as much as she hated to admit it, Pocahontas was begrudgingly grateful to the captain. Any amount of freedom, no matter how small was now a precious gift. Once they reached England, she had no idea how much, if any at all, they would receive form their new master.

_Master. _Pocahontas shuddered inwardly at the word. She was raised in a community of equals, men and women shared equally in the work. To have to address someone as "master" would go against everything Pocahontas believed in.

And yet, in a strange land, it was her only chance for survival.

"Pocahontas look!" Nakoma was nudging her. "It's so different!"

Pocahontas followed her friend's gaze and drew in a breath at what she saw. Massive stone structures towered over her, taller than any of the trees that graced the hillsides of her homeland. The ground was covered in a strange gray material and people seemed to materialize form no where.

"Pocahontas, look at their clothing. Why their dresses come all the way to the ankles!' Nakoma's eyes were wide with disbelief. "Suddenly I feel almost naked."

Pocahontas glanced at her friend and then down at her own native dress. "I don't know. I'm sure proper clothing will be given too us."

The call sounded for the captives to return to their quarters and Pocahontas watched as John ran around deck, shouting orders for preparation to dock. Nakoma latched on to her friend's arm. "Whatever happens, we must try to stay together." she whispered. "We are all that each other has anymore."

"Unless by some miracle, we are set free from this nightmare." Pocahontas murmured as her eyes scanned the shoreline. She offered Nakoma a supportive smile. "Come. We must go before we are lost in this chaos." Casting one final glance at the sea, Pocahontas felt her heart grow heavy. She would never see her home again. She was sure of it. The final call came and Pocahontas went down with the others, only after throwing one final glare to the man responsible for her new life.

…0000...

As one heart sank in despair, another was lifting with joy.

John felt a smile cross his face as the harbor drew closer

_Home at last!_

He had seen the woman called Pocahontas standing at the rail of the ship with another of the captives, discussing something in hushed tones of a language he did not understand. The woman still remained a mystery to him. It seemed like he had broken through a barrier on the day of the capture, but ever since then she ha only regarded him with murderous glares and stubborn silenced. As much as he tried to deny it, he found himself fascinated by her spirit. Half of his soldiers wouldn't dare speak to him in such a manner as she did for fear of losing a limb.

Although she did seem to appreciate the dose of freedom they had received while on the ship. John knew that these conditions of the sea were difficult for anyone to survive, especially a women. Only a few days into their journey, a few had taken ill and nearly died. Thankfully, all had survived, thanks in many parts to the care of their tribeswomen. John let out a long breath. Perhaps something could be done to save them from the infamous copper mines in the South. It seemed as if one was sent there as a slave, they never returned.

A soldier called John's attention away from his thoughts and within a few minutes, the ship was docked and the gangplank was being lowered. As he walked confidently down the gangplank, he spotted one of his head servants that had come to greet him. "Kokoum!"

The man, also a native turned and began making his way through the crowd. Except for the color of his skin, he looked the part of any respectable English commoner. Kokoum had been John's personal servant, and friend, for over ten years. He face was often set in stone; the man rarely smiled, yet the two men shared a quiet respect and understanding, despite the differences both in race and rank.

Kokoum met John half way and bowed low from the waist. "It is good to see you, Master.

John nodded and removed the gloves from his hands. "I trust everything is as I left it?"

"Of course." Kokoum nodded. "I would never allow anything to happen to your home while you were away."

John nodded his thanks. "I'm well aware of that, my friend. Well done."

"Here you are, son! Home at last!" Lord William Smith, Marquis of Essex, emerged from the crowd, arms widespread in welcome. Approaching his son, he took John's hand and shook it. "Glad to see you made it home safely." Only then did he notice Kokoum. "Step aside, Kokoum."

He begrudgingly did so. "Of course. A thousand pardon, Lord Smith, loved by the king, the people.." He glanced up from his bow. "And himself."

John saw his father immediately stiffen. The Marquis turned and placed a menacing finger in the servant's direction. "You forget yourself, boy. Watch yourself or I'll have you-"

"It's wonderful to see you as well, father!" John said as he embraced the older man. He saw Kokoum's nod of gratitude, which he returned.

"Yes, well." William released his son and linked his hands together. "I say, son. You were gone much too long. We were wondering if you were ever coming back."

John chuckled. "Well, the journey to the New World isn't exactly a jaunt across the Channel. It's quite a trip."

"SO I hear." His father placed a hand on his shoulder. "You weren't injured in battle were you? I've been telling Lady Stone that no one could best you with a weapon."

The captain shook his head. "No, no I'm fine. No man so much as put a scratch on me." He frowned. "Though a certain woman may have if given the chance." He muttered."

Lord Smith raised a brow. "What was that, son?"

"Nothing. Listen. There is a glade that we've discovered that will take us right up the river in the new world."

His father smiled. "Excellent! We can gain easy access. Did you record the landscape?"

A smug smile crossed his son's face. "The maps were so clear that an illiterate fool could navigate them."

"Wonderful. Good work, Captain." His gaze rose to the ship where the group of native women were preparing to leave the ship. "More captives I see. Good. Send them to the copper mines. It seems they're having trouble keeping workers down there."

John immediately felt his stomach churn. He had to stop this. The copper mines were a death sentence. The guards were beginning to turn them in the direction of the mines and John did the first thing that came to mind. Charging toward them, he grabbed the arm of the very woman who despised him. "Stop." Everyone, including her, looked up at him in shock. He saw momentary fear flicker in her dark eyes and then they hardened into her classic glare.

The soldier waited for his answer. "Yes, Captain?"

"I..I need a gift for Lady Stone. This one will do."

"Good idea, son" William spoke. "She will be expecting something from you."

"As for the others." The authority was back in his voice. "Take them to the manor's groundskeeper. They can be put to work in the manor." He turned to his father. "All of them are women. The copper mines would be a death sentence."

William shrugged. "Do as you wish, John. They're your slaves, after all."

John nodded and turned to meet Pocahontas gaze. "Thank you." she whispered softly

He didn't answer and motioned for Kokoum to come. "Give me your hands, Pocahontas."

"You're name is Pocahontas?" Kokoum seemed momentarily dazed.

John ignored him. "Simply because you chains have been removed does not mean you are free. If you dare try to escape, I will come after you myself."

"You flatter me, Captain." Her voice mocked him. "You don't strike me as a type who would chase after any woman, let alone a lowly slave."

He smirked. "Than perhaps I will make an exception." He turned to Kokoum. "Take her to Lady Stone with my regards."

Kokoum said nothing, only bowed, and guided Pocahontas away with a firm grasp on her elbow, leaving John and his father standing on the dock.

"You know." William said as he watched the two natives walk away. "You've been gone for six months. Don't you think she may like to see _you_?"

John chuckled. "All in good time. Although, you both should know that as soon as my crew and I are rested, we'll be on our way again. There is still much to see and much more wealth to be sought."

"John, you can't" The Marquis's voice was earnest. "Lord Stone is not as strong as when you left here."

The captain's brow knit together in concern. "What do you mean?:

"I mean that Lord Stone has fallen ill since you left. It seems to be quite serious."

John shook his head. "I had no idea. I must go to him."

His father nodded. "Of course. Seeing you may bring him some comfort. I'll see you later tonight at the banquet."

John nodded, hugged his father once more and took off toward the Stone Manor. William watched him go. _If only he knew how sick Lord Stone really is…. This marriage must happen and happen soon. If not, my whole plan will be ruined_

The Marquis raised his head in time to see a clocked figure making his way toward him and motioned into a back ally. "Do you have it?"

The figure chuckled. "Of course."

"Good. Be sure to Put some in Lord Stone's wine at the banquet tonight. Only a few drops though. We don't want him to die…yet."

….0000.…

_I can't believe I'm here_

Pocahontas let out the breath that she had been holding for the past few moments. She stood in front of a full length mirror, dressed in servant's clothing. This is how I am to spend the rest of my days. Part of her wanted to break down and cry on the spot, but she would not give in. She would not give them that satisfaction

Outside, she heard the captain's servant moving around. She knew he was waiting for her, but she could not bring herself to face her new life just yet. Closing her eyes, she savored her last few moments of freedom and drawing a long breath, stepped out into the hall.

The native man looked up. "Well, at least you know look the part. The Captain must have seen you were special"

She scoffed. "What that man see and understands can be written on a kernel of corn."

Kokoum hid a smile. "Be that as it may, he did save your life. He very well could have allowed all of you to die in an English copper mine."

She shrugged. "That was very surprising and decent of him."

He stepped closer. "The Captain is not as bad as you think. When I was a boy, he saved me from being beaten to death. He promised to look after me and to this day he has kept his promise." Pocahontas turned away and Kokoum sighed. "I know what you are thinking…that I've abandoned everything I ever was and become one of them. But I am still one of you. I will always be one of you."

She forced a tight smile. "Of course you will."

"Pocahontas, listen to me." She turned and met his gaze. "I lived in your village. We were only children when the first attack came, but I was among the one's taken. Don't you remember. You and I were playmates as children."

She backed up. "You don't know me. I have never met you before in my life."

His eyes softened. "Then how do I know that you are the chief's daughter. Our princess. My father was a council member of your father's"

She quickly placed a hand over his mouth. "Kokoum, listen to me. You know too much and now that information in better left to the unknown. I am a save like you now. We no longer have control over our lives."

"I've never abandoned hope for freedom one day. You could be the key that takes us there!"

She shook her head. "Silenced is my only hope now. You have never seen me before and you don't know who I am."

He frowned. "I know you are the daughter of a great chief."

Pocahontas stepped around him. "That is who I used to be. Kokoum, you must not treat me different than anyone else. If they were to find out who I was…"

"They would kill you, I know." He took hold of her shoulders. "But our people will keep your secret. They-"

"No, Kokum!" She cut him off. "No one can know my identity. From this day forward, I am only a gift from an English captain to his mistress."

"You should know That Lady Stone is more than just the Captain's mistress. She's his betrothed."

Her head shot up. "He is to be married? When?"

Kokoum chuckled. "They day that his ship sinks and his father ties him to the alter. Come." He placed a piece of stray hair behind her ear. "Let us get you to Lady Stone


	4. My Strongest Suit

The halls of the manor were eerily quiet as John made his way to Lord Stone's chambers. Glancing up at the walls, he noticed that some new artwork had found a home on the large marble walls since his departure. Lord Stone was known in England for his impeccable taste in art and it was rumored that at an early age, he had blown a fourth of his inheritance money on a extensive collection of paintings, sculptures, and pottery, much to the horror of his parents, no doubt.

A servant carrying a basin of water, no doubt for his ill master, hurried by and acknowledged the captain with a hasten bow of his head, to which John nodded in return Since he had spent a lot of time in this place since he had been a boy, the staff all knew him and, except for a couple of incidences, usually permitted him access with no trouble. Maintaining a close relationship with the Duke's daughter didn't hurt things either.

As he drew closer to the chambers, the captain quickened his pace; honestly not to sure of why he had. All that he knew was that his father had said the Duke was quite ill and that he must go to him as quickly as possible. Those words were the only ones racing through his mind as he continued to navigate the halls he had known since childhood.

"I hope I'm not to late." he murmured as he rounded the final corner that led to the Duke's outer chamber. "The last thing I need right now is the death of my father's employer and my benefactor." _Not to mention you future father-in-law. _The thought came forward unbidden and John quickly pushed it aside. That was certainly the last thing on his mind as the moment.

The guard at the chamber doors looked up as he approached. "Can I help you, Sir?"

The young man hardly looked a day over twenty, clearly a new recruit. John couldn't help but smile. "I'm here to see his Lordship."

The youth eyes him suspiciously. "I'm sorry, but Lord Stone is not seeing anyone at this time. I'm afraid his health is less than satisfactory."

"I know." Usually, John would have given the lad a jesting, but today he was in no mood for amusement. "I am Captain Smith. My ship docked not an hour ago at the harbor and I was told to come here at once."

Clearly this was not impressing the guard. "And who told you such a thing?"

God help him, he was ready take the boy by the shoulders and physically remove him if he had to. Trying to keep his temper in check, John answered. "My father. The Marquis William Smith of Essex."

"I've never heard of such a Marquis." The guards hand had moved to the hilt of his sword.

Surly this boy could not be that daft! "How is that possible? My father has been an advisor of Lord Stone's for years! I'm betrothed to his daughter for heaven sakes! Surely she has mentioned my name!"

The young man smirked. "The only thing that Lady Stone has mentioned recently is the latest fashion she purchased for her wardrobe this past week. Just sent one of her maids to fetch it for her this morning. She has never even mentioned a man."

Despite his growing frustrations with the guard, John had to admit he was not surprised. His fiancé was a beautiful woman, to be sure, but she lacked the depth that he so desired his a partner. All that concerned her was the latest fashions, fancy parties and mindless gossip, hardly things he would choose to feel his days with. He had often asked her what she would do after she became the duchess, a title that now did not seem so far away.

And her answer?

Her answer had been simply that she would leave the politics to her husband and live her life as a social icon that all the ladies of society would envy.

He once again turned his attention back to the situation at hand. "Listen, boy." His voice was calm, but cold. "The man behind those doors has been a surrogate father to me in times when my own father was too busy to raise me. God help you, if you refrain me from him any longer and he passes, I swear on my life you will never be anything more than a lowly manor servant, do I make myself clear? Now let me pass." The last words were spoken through clenched teeth.

He saw the muscles working in the lad's throat as he nodded and moved away so the captain could enter. Walking though the doors, John could smell the familiar scent of pipe tobacco that was such a signature of his benefactor. The other guards with the chambers instantly recognized him and greeted him with slight nods and smiles, many of which he returned.

He was just about to enter the bedchamber when the door opened and he met the startled green eyes of his fiancé. Abigail Stone looked up, first in surprise and then her face softened with recognition. She had been crying "John." She unconsciously brushed a hand across her face to catch any stray tears. "I had no idea you had returned."

"Not even an hour ago." he replied, handing her his handkerchief, witch she accepted with a week smile. His gaze flitted above her to beyond the doors. "How is he?"

She wiped the last of her tars and handed the cloth back to him. "Awake at the moment, though I fear he will not recover this time."

Confusion lit his voice. "This time?"

Abigail nodded. "He has fallen ill several times over the past few months, getting a bit worse each time. I'm afraid, John." Her eyes began welling up with tears. "He can't leave me yet. I'm not ready to run this manor on my own" And then her eyes took on a flirtatious light. "But then again I won't be alone will I? Would you care to accompany me back to my chamber?"

He groaned inwardly. "I'm afraid I can't, Abigail. I need to speak with your father. But I will surely see you tonight at the banquet."

Her face immediately fell. "Of course. I'll see you tonight. Good-bye, John"

Pressing a kiss to her hand, he watched as left the chamber and closed the door behind her. John felt his heart go out to her. Despite her shallow tendencies, Abigail Stone hid a heart of gold beneath a shield of frivolity. He knew how deeply she loved her father and him for that matter, though he was sorry that he would never able to return that love. Their engagement had been in the works since they had been no more than children and thankfully, it had yet to be brought up.

John was hopeful that never would be in the near future.

The open door cast a small sliver of light across the bed where the old man lie. John entered quietly, shocked at how frail the lord of the manor looked. All his life, Arthur Stone had been a pillar of strength that held the manor together after his wife's death when John and Abigail were eight. Mary's passing had been tragic, but Arthur had at once called the manor together, from himself, down to the lowest serf and made a declaration that someway, somehow, they would survive.

And survive they had.

Under the lord's watchful eyes, the manor flourished and John had never for a single moment thought the man weak.

Until now.

Slow uneven breathing was the only indication that the man was still with them.

Not wanting to disturb him, John turned and quietly began to leave the room, but a feeble voice called out. "Who's there?"

John immediately turned on his heel. "John Smith, milord."

With great effort, the old man raised his head. "John. I had no idea you had returned from the New World." He motioned for the captain to come closer. "How was your journey?"

John came and knelt beside the bed. "Uneventful, for the most part. Although we did manage to bring in some captives. Women, all of them. I've put them to work around the manor."

"Good." A frail hand moved to cover the younger man's "I trust you will stay?"

"Only long enough to gather supplies. After that, if your lordship permits, I plan to sail again. There is still much to be discovered."

Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but a coughing spell overtook him. "I'm sorry, John, but I seem to be unable to discuss it right now, but I will see you later tonight at the banquet. You can tell me all about it then."

"Of course." John rose and kissed the hand that held his, as was the custom. "I wish you good health, milord."

There was no reply as John glanced back only once at the bed that held the once strong man before closing the door behind him.

….00000.…

"Before I present you to her ladyship, there are some things you should know about Abigail Stone." Kokoum remarked as the walked through the massive halls to the Lady's chambers.

"Really?" Pocahontas gasped as she struggled to keep up with her countryman's long strides. "Such as?"

She breathed a sigh of relief as Kokoum stopped. "Well, besides being engaged to your infamous captain, her father is one the most powerful lords in England. He has great influence over the king and in court, so watch yourself."

Pocahontas nodded. "What else?"

A knowing smirk spread over Kokoum's usually stone face. "The woman is a social icon. Frivolity is her middle name. She knows fashion like the back of her hand and lives for the latest gossip of the London society."

"And that is important because?"

"It's important because she will expect you to fall to her every whim and wish. This is a different world, Pocahontas. If you do as she asks, you will never want for anything ever again."

Her eyes darkened. "Except my freedom."

Understanding flooded her companions eyes. "And perhaps one day, you will have it, but only if you do as you are bidden. From this point on, you belong to her, just as I belong to the captain."

Pocahontas glanced at him, but her attention was drawn away from a shriek in the next room. They were now inside the chambers and Pocahontas saw a handful of women in servant's clothing, all of them rushing about in haste with various items of clothing in their arms. The door to her right swung open and a woman about her age stormed in. She was wearing a robe, her long blonde hair cascading down her back in glorious waves. Her face was fashioned with delicate features and vivid eyes, the shade of the brightest emerald. The woman was, in a world, physical perfection.

"Ladies, tell me something" Her voice flowed though the air like a soothing lullaby. Maintaining perfection is such hard work, but well worth the effort, don't you think?"

Choruses of agreement rang though the chamber. Abigail smiled sweetly into the mirror. "Really? That perhaps one of you can tell me _why _my fiancé, the one I am destined to spend my life with, is neglecting me?"

Pocahontas and Kokoum exchanged a glance, both thinking the same thing.

Before them, Abigail continued her lament. "He has been to see my father. He has been to see his father! I wouldn't be surprised if he was chatting up every old man in all of bloody England! And yet, the thought of visiting a ripe young noblewoman is unappealing to him!" She sighed and turned to her maidens. "Does anyone else see a problem with this situation?"

Kokoum pushed Pocahontas forward and cleared his throat to announce his presence. Bowing low, eh addressed her. "Lady Stone, my apologies for the interruption, but I come bearing gifts from Captain Smith."

Abigail then noticed Pocahontas and turned to look her up and down. "Another handmaiden? Kokoum, you should know this is the last thing that I need!" Sighing, she turned away and began fixing her hair in the mirror. "Does this 'gift' have a name."

"My name is Pocahontas."

Everyone in the room, including Kokoum gasped at the audacity of this new slave and Abigail's hand immediately stilled. Turing to face her, she asked. "Did you just speak?"

Pocahontas met her eyes. "My name is Pocahontas, milady. I simply thought that you might like to know…

"How dare you!" Abigail was up in an instant. "Who do you think you are? You do not lower your eyes when I address you. You do not tremble." She stopped about five feet in front of the native, placing a hand on her hip. "Are you not afraid of me?"

Pocahontas tipped her head to the side. "Would it please you if I were?"

The Lady seemed to consider this for a moment and then "Not so much, come to think of it."

"Well, then. I am only doing as you please."

"That's true. Quite true." Abigail shook her head. "You were begining to say something earlier."

Pocahontas nodded. "Concerning the captain. I thought that you would like to know he is well and suffered no injuries in battle."

Astonishment crossed the blonde's face. "I did want to know that. I saw him earlier in my father's chambers, but only for a moment. I had no idea if he was safe or not. I was so…" She paused. "You've very perceptive, aren't you, Pocahontas?"

The native allowed a smile to cross her face. "Only when I need to be. You may be interested to know that my true talent lies with the needle. I can make you a gown the shade of your eyes. I know of a special dyeing process passed down by my people from generation to generation."

Abigail squealed and immediately threw her arms around a shocked Pocahontas. "A slave who knows fashion! I'm keeping her." Releasing her newest servant, Abigail turned to the rest of her maidens. "I was wrong! John hasn't forgotten about me! Thank you Kokoum. That will be all. Elizabeth, get Pocahontas a proper gown." Her nose wrinkled as she picked at the sleeve of the native's cotton work dress. "That flimsy thing will never do for a handmaiden of mine."

Twenty minutes later, Lady Stone was satisfied with her newest maiden's appearance and seated herself at her vanity. "It's time, girls." She said as she fluffed her hair. "The banquet is only hours away and I must look my best. Society will be expecting no less from me. Fashion is, after all, my strongest suit." Abigail smiled as she extended her arms and waited to be dressed. "Come, ladies. Let's polish this jewel!"

…0000...

That evening, the main hall was a flourish of activity. Everyone had their specific tasks assigned to them to make sure everything had gone smoothly. Several servants scurried about, placing food and cups on the tables. Others were making sure the decorations were secure and the ballroom immaculate for the dancing that would no doubt take place. Kokoum watched all of this with an sharp eye. As John's steward, he had been put in charge of the event entirely, making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be and the banquet went of without a hitch. It was rumored that Lord Stone would make some sort of announcement tonight that would change all of their lives. Everything must go as planned.

He saw Pocahontas enter the main hall carrying a bottle of wine that was no doubt the best in the house. She began pouring a small bit in each of the glasses and Kokoum couldn't help but notice that for being a very independent woman, she fell into her new role rather well. The violet dress that Lady Stone had secured for her looked absolutely radiant against her caramel skin and her long raven hair hung in a loose ponytail down her back. It was a simple, yet elegant ensemble and Kokoum couldn't help but be impressed.

John chose that moment to stride into the room, trying in haste to tie his cavart at the last moment. "Ah! Kokoum, there you are! I trust everything is running smoothly?"

The native set aside his checklist to help his friend tie the offending piece of fabric. "So far, so good, Master. Everything seems to be going as planned."

John nodded his thanks. "Glad to hear it and Kokoum." The native turned to look at him. "I've always told you to call me John when it is only the two of us. You may be my steward, but above all else you are my friend." His gaze shifted across the room. "By the way, did Lady Stone seem pleased with my gift?"

He nodded. "Pocahontas managed to make herself valuable to all of us in record time."

"I'm not surprised." John's smile faded and was replaced by a thoughtful expression. "Did she happen to say anything about herself? Where she's from? What her interests are? It' strange. I've never met anyone like her before. I can't myself but wonder…"

"She said nothing, Sir." Kokum quickly cut him off. "Please excuse me."

With that, he hurried away, leaving John stunned at his strange reaction, but had no time to reflect on the matter because Lord Stone chose that moment to enter the grand hall, Abigail supporting him. It seemed as thought some color had returned to the man's face, although he still looked like death ward over. He hurried over to help Abigail assist her father into his chair and then stood and took hr hand in his own.

"You look lovely tonight, milady." H said as he placed a kiss on the soft skin of her wrist.

She blushed. "Thank you, John. You are looking as handsome as always."

H smiled and held her hand at arms length. "Is this the latest fashion? It's absolutely stunning.

She glanced down at the aquamarine gown she had on. "It is now." She laughed. "Tell m, John. How did your expedition to the New World play out? It went well, I hope?"

The captain nodded. Of course. Once we found an opening into the river, we were able to go farther than anyone before us."

Awe crossed her face. "It sounds so exciting! Perhaps I shall accompany you on your next trip."

He shrugged, trying to stay calm. This woman wouldn't last a day on one of his voyages. "If you like milady. We sleep under the stars and live on dried rat meat. Quite an experience."

Abigail gave a nervous laugh. "Then again, perhaps I shall wish you well in spirit."

"The I shall appreciate every word" Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, John turned her toward the ballroom. "May I have this dance?"

From across the room, Pocahontas watched as the captain led Lady Stone toward the many dancing couple's who now occupied that ballroom._ At least he won't be bothering me tonight. _She had to admit that, although her mistress was indeed shallow, Pocahontas liked her very much. The woman had been nothing but kind to her and her other servant immediately welcomed her into their circle. If she were to spend the rest of her life in slavery, she couldn't ask for a better position.

She saw another native man pass her and whisper. "It is good to see you, princess!"

Pocahontas immediately froze. Surly her ears must be failing her. No one could possibly-

"Princess! Word of your arrival has spread through our quarters! Everyone is anxious to see you!"

She watched wordlessly as another of her people called to her in passing. The only way they could possibly know-

"Kokoum!" she half shouted, half whispered.

Her fiend met her glare with a nervous gaze. "I admit that I told a few people. Pocahontas, your people need to know!"

Before she could answer, Lord Stone called all to attention. With great effort, the old man stood and raised his glass of wine in the air for a toast. "I propose a toast to our captain for a successful journey to the new world. Because of his hard work, we will now be able to invade Virginia and set up our fortune. God willing, by the end of this year, we will have a full settlement begun." he glanced over to his daughter. "Abigail, shall I continue?"

She smiled. "If you wish to do so father."

Lord Stone turned to face the captain this time. "John, this morning you came to me with a request for a new journey. And well I would love nothing more than another victory under the glorious belt of England, I have a more important mission for you. Granted, you will never be able to leave English soil again, but I believe you will find this much more satisfying and I can not think of a better person to carry it out than the man I consider to be my own son."

Pocahontas could have sworn she saw the captain's hand tighten around his wineglass. "It is always an honor to serve you, your Grace."

Lord Stone smiled and nodded. "As many of you know, Captain Smith and my daughter have been engaged for years now. Well, I'd say it's been far to long." He began to laugh, only to have a coughing spell overtake him. Abigail released John's hand to rush to his side, but her father waved her aside.

He raised his eye's to John's. "I want to make sure she is taken care of before I leave this world." His gaze returned to the crowd assembled before him. "For this reason, my daughter, Abigail of Stone manor will wed Captain John Smith of Essex in seven days time."


	5. Enchantment Passing Through

"Abigail of Stone manor will wed Captain John Smith of Essex in seven days time."

"Wed Captain John Smith of Essex in seven days time"

"Seven days time…."

"Seven days…."

_How did I get myself into this mess? _John ran a still shaking hand through his golden hair. _My life is at sea; discovering new lands and exploring all sorts of adventures. Now I am to spend my days sitting in parliament and advising the king. Who ever would have thought it would have all come to this?_

The banquet had been over an hour, yet the scenes played through his mind as if they had just taken place. As he had expected, Abigail had been elated to say the least. She had immediately forsaken his hand to run to her father and throw her arms around him, tears of joy streaming down her face. He had felt tears prick in his own eyes as well, though joy was the last thing they had been for.

His own crew had been present and they too, offered their congratulations on his upcoming nuptials, crowding him in an attempt to show their sincerity. Like the magnificent actor he had become, John had plastered a smile on his face and did his best to accept the well-wishes showered upon him. Only a few men saw beyond his well-groomed façade and offered him slight nods of support, almost as if they understood what he was going through.

But of course, they didn't understand.

They couldn't

They were still free men. The lucky ones, free to live their lives as they pleased. Free to sail to the farthest ends of the earth and have no one to answer to but themselves. Free to face death and adventure with no repercussions or fear of consequence. They were even free to love whomever they pleased.

Oh, how he envied them.

Love had always been a funny subject for the captain. He had always claimed the sea as his first love, his one and only.

But he wasn't immune.

In his heart, John had longed for someone to share his life with. Someone who would share his love of adventure and exploring new and unknown lands. Someone who could hold his respect and his heart. Someone who could match him for intelligence and cared about more than the latest fashion or gossip. He wanted a real person with substance; not just a pretty face on his arm. And here he was, seven days from being a married man.

But Abigail just didn't seem to fit the bill.

Running a frustrated hand through his golden hair, John let out a long sigh. Several servants were still present in the banquet hall, tidying up the last of the mess. The woman called Pocahontas was among them and he watched her as she polished a portion of the table. Her ebony hair hung in front of her face as she leant over the table to wipe it down. Though it hid her face, her rough stokes over the table's oak service made her feelings very clear. She was still very much adjusting to her new life.

The swipe of her arm across her face took him completely by surprise.

Even the strongest of warriors have a breaking point.

John felt a strange urge to comfort her, but before he even took a step, she had straightened and stopped to converse with another servant, her friend from the ship if he remembered correctly. As the two of them walked away, he once again turned his thoughts to his impending marriage.

He had seen other men on their wedding days. He remembered how their faces lit with anticipation and pleasure of finally joining their lives with the on they loved. True, most of his friends were commoners and their marriages were not arranged like so many in the aristocracy were. Perhaps sacrifice was a way of life for the upper class. People gave up their personal happiness for the sake of political advancement. It was simply something that was accepted in this world.

But did it make it right?

"John?" His father's voice called him from his thoughts

"In here, Father." John turned just in time to see the marquis enter the banquet hall.

"Ah, son! There you are!" William placed a hand on his son's shoulders. "I've been looking for you for nearly a quarter of an hour. Abigail is asking for you."

The captain nodded. "I asked her to alert me when her father had calmed. How is he faring?"

His father shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. His spells have been coming much more often lately."

Only moments after the Duke had announced the engagement, a sudden coughing fit had overtaken him. John had simply stood riveted to the ground, watching in horror as his mentor's body convulsed with each cough that robbed him of his breath. Abigail had immediately abandoned his hand to rush to her fathers aide. He would have been right behind her had it not been for the stampede of advisors and guards that had literally pushed him aside.

They had taken the duke to his private chambers while the rest of the banquet continued as planned. Throughout the whole ordeal, Abigail would make occasional appearances, smiling sweetly and pretending that nothing was wrong. John had only been able to speak briefly with her once and all they had discussed was if the duke was settles. Before she could answer, a servant informed her that her father was asking for her. Casting John and apologetic glance, she had gone with the servant and returned to her father's side.

Pulling himself back to the present, John cast a glance beyond his father. "I suppose I should see to Abigail."

William nodded. "Of course. Where are my manners?" A servant passed by with two goblets of wine on a tray. William stopped the man. Taking the two goblet's from the tray, he handed one to his son and waved the man away. Turning back, he raised his in the air. "A toast to the bridegroom! Everything that our family has ever worked for is finally about to come full circle."

Taking a sip of the wine, John countered. "I'm so glad my marriage is the last step to you political glory."

William finished off his glass and set it on the table. "Oh, come now, son. You know your happiness has always been my first priority. Think of this as a bonus. Hm." He became thoughtful. "You're a very lucky man, John. Many have tried to win the heart of Abigail Stone. Who would have known that such a gangly young thing would grow into such a stunning beauty." He smirked. "Why, if I would have known, I just might have snatched her up for myself."

"You know it's not to late." John took another sip of the wine. He would need all he could to make it through this conversation.

The marquis's eyes immediately flew to the captain's face. "What sort of talk is that? I thought you loved Abigail?"

John sighed. "O course I do, Father. We grew up together for heaven's sakes! How could I not love her?"

"Then what is it, son?"

John turned away. Why was he so reluctant so get married? He would have everything he ever wanted. A grand manor, servants at his every beck and call, and a wife who loved him. Did it matter that he wasn't in love with her?

Oh, he loved Abigail. Just not in the way that she loved him. He was no fool; he had seen the way she looked at him. How she smiled when he whispered something in her ear and the way she held his hand. He wanted to say he could love her in return. God knows he had been trying for the last five years to love her in return. But something inside of him would not let him open his heart to her.

William was pleading with him now. "John, why are you doing this too yourself? Perhaps you don't love her yet, but I'm sure you will grow to. don't put yourself through this, son. You'll have everything you've ever wanted!"

_Except my freedom_

John looked up in time to see Pocahontas and the other woman re-enter the room. Both completely ignored the scene that was unfolding in front of them and continued with their duties as if there was no one else present. John swallowed. _Why do I suddenly feel like I know what she's going through?_

"John, listen to me." His father was speaking again. "Please, Please. I beg you. Don't jeopardize this. We've worked too hard to get this far and blow it now."

The captain cocked his head. "I thought you said that my happiness has always been top a top priority?"

His statement was completely ignored in William's anger. "I have tried to be pleasant, John, but it does not seem to be working. This is your life now. Not sailing off into some god-forsaken land trying to get yourself killed. I suppose I should be glad your mother is not alive to see you like this. I have worked too hard to get this far are you are not about to ruin it for yourself or me. I suggest you get used to it." That said, he stormed out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

John watched him go with a sigh. "I suppose I can't count on his help to get out of this." he muttered, glancing down at the glass in his hand. _This is the man who used to tell me that it's up to us whether we rise or fall, succeed or fail. He used to tell me I could have it all and that nothing in life is an accident. I suppose it was easier to believe that in new and exciting lands where he couldn't touch me. Now that I'm to spend the rest of my life trapped as a nobleman, it seems harder and harder to even believe it possible. Father is right after all. Life as I knew it is over!_

With all his might, John flung the goblet across the room, the only way he could release his frustration. It hit the opposite wall and shattered into a thousand pieces, startling the two women who were still cleaning up the remains of the banquet. The both looked up in surprise, the one he did not know speaking rapidly to Pocahontas in a language he did not understand. She answered and claimed the other woman's arm and began to steer her toward the door. He rolled his eyes. The last thing he meant to do was scare her off.

"Wait!" He stepped toward them. "Stay."

Pocahontas studied him for a moment, then turned to the other woman and said something, nodding toward the door. Her companion nodded and left as Pocahontas turned back to face him. "Yes, Captain?"

"Where are you from?" He grasped for something to say.

Her eyes flashed surprise, but she answered. "Licata. It's a small village on…

John nodded. "…on the Chicahomeny."

Her eyes widened. "You know it?"

"Yes. Quite well actually. It's quite different there."

Her eyes challenged him. "Don't you mean it's quite different here?"

He smirked and spread his hands. "Fair enough."

The first real smile he had over seen from her crossed her lips and a wistful expression overcame her face. "My father and I used to canoe up the Chicahomeny for days on end. There were sometimes he would even let me choose the course. Even when I would run us to the bank when there was something I wanted to see, he was always patient with me."

John was intrigued. "Did you ever venture onto the Queuchahonic?"

Her shoulders fell. "No. Though I always wanted to do so. My father felt it was far to dangerous because of it's close location to the Roanoke Colony."

John scoffed. "Roanoke? That place has been vacant for years! I have been there, though. It's beautiful."

Pocahontas chuckled. "All of our land is beautiful. I want to see as much of it as I can in my life."

He returned the smile. "I agree. I would love to sail away from here and never return. To see new and undiscovered places and secrets that only a few men before me have seen. My mother understood that. She used to call them 'moments of enchantment.' You know, a moment when something is just go beautiful that it can't help but take our breath away?"

She nodded. "Are you talking about my country now."

A small smile crossed his features and he nodded. "In a way."

Pocahontas turned away. "You are lucky to have seen so much. If I could leave this place, I would return to my land and spend my days exploring all that I could find. There is something about it that is just so liberating for the soul!"

John regarded her with a thoughtful glance. "Perhaps I will take you sailing with me one day. To your country, of course. You could be my guide."

"Would you let me steer?" Her smile could be contagious.

"Would you steer us to the bank? He countered.

She attempted to appear serious. "Of course! A place where there were no people. I could kick off my shoes and run free with no one to tell me what to do. How to behave."

He nodded. "That doesn't sound half-bad right now. Free to do as I pleased with no ties to bind me to something I wanted no part of. Free to leave all of my cares behind me

She agreed. "Yes. There would not be a thing that I could not pursue if I chose to. Just to put my trust in something other than the routine would be a refreshing change."

Both fell silent for a moment and a thousand thoughts assaulted his mind. _Why are you telling her this! She is a servant! She does not even like you! This is a woman whom you hardly know and it would do you well to forget her!_ John risked a glance at the native and saw a similar look cross her face. Perhaps these thoughts were plaguing her as well.

_All of this talk is simply a fantasy! _The voice in his head screamed at him_. A moment of enchantment. Nothing that will ever last. For some strange reason, you feel as though you can confide in her. _

The revelation shook the captain to his very core. Why _was_ it that it felt so easy to confide in her, a woman he barely knew. For some strange reason, he found himself attracted to this woman. But that all that it was: an attraction. This was meaningless!

"This is meaningless!" The words were out before he could stop them. Startled eyes met his, yet all he could think about were the frustration that were welling up inside him. "What am I saying? I'll never take you sailing. I am never leaving England again. Instead I'll be dealing with matters at court and sending others on the expeditions instead!"

Her eyes hardened and she bowed mockingly. "Forgive me, your Excellency. You speak as though you've been enslaved."

His eyes narrowed to a glare. "Perhaps not with chains, but a betrothal." Pocahontas then began to dab at her eyes with the cloth she held in her hand. For some reason, it only flared his anger, "Why are you doing that."

She met his gaze, glare for glare. "Why, to dry my weeping eyes, of course. Oh, you must have it so difficult. You want to go to lands where people have been for years, only so you can say you 'discovered' them and instead you are forced to marry a future duchess? How sad. A tragedy indeed."

He pointed a finger at her and took a step forward. "You go _too_ far!"

She whirled on him. "No! You go too far!" Why did he feel like he had seen this before? "If you don't like the path you are on, change it! I do not see you being forced into chains. You are free to do as you please. So don't expect any pity or understanding form this _humble_ slave. She turned and stormed out of the room before he had time to reply.

"I command you to stop!" John attempted to chase her, but she ignored him completely. When she was out of sight, the captain let out a frustrated growl. Who did she think she was? She didn't understand. No one understood! Why would he expect her too? At first it seemed like they were making some progress toward something that resembled a friendship. That, just like everything else had blown up in his face. What possessed him to share his inner-most thoughts with her-a woman, _a slave for that matter!_

John sighed. What difference did it make now? It was over and he was still no closer to a solution to his problem. The funny thing was, despite the regrets of sharing his conflict with Pocahontas, deep down, somewhere inside of him, he could tell that she already knew.


	6. Moments When We Smile And Those Between

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Yes, it's certainly been awhile. I am so, so sorry for the long wait, but my life has been unbelieveably busy as of late. Between school and my personal life, things have not been great, so that affected my writing for a long time. But now I'm starting to have a sliver of free time agai, so I thought I would get moving with this again.

Thsi chapter contains one fo my favorite parts of the musical and I'm pretty sure you'll figure it out when you see it. Kind of a lighthearted chapter for now before the real drama sets in adn believe me, it is coming. I hope you enjoy adn don't forge to review! Who knows? Maybe it'll lead to a faster update...i mena 9 months...oy...:)

* * *

_How dare he!_

That simple statement seemed to be on constant replay in Pocahontas' mind as she stormed down the hallway toward the servant's quarters. The night had proven to be taxing enough on her. She certainly had not needed an interlude with that exasperating man. Rounding another corner, she ignored the greeting of a fellow tribes member as she continued her mental attack on the captain.

_Who does he think he is? In this land he may be respected, but he would not last a day in mine. What gives him the right to speak to anyone, especially **me**, in such a manner! If he only knew..._

"But he doesn't know."

A voice from behind startled her and she whirled to find Kokoum standing only a few feet from here. Tucking a stray strand of ebony hair behind her ear, she lowed her eyes to the floor. "Kokoum. I didn't see you."

His brow arched in amusement. "Obviously."

Not in the mood for his games, she only asked. "How much did you hear?"

Her companion became serious again, but a slight humor still lit his eyes. "Perhaps more than you wanted me too. May I inquire as to what happened?"

The princess's cheeks flushed a bright crimson. "I'd rather not say."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. I can't make you share if you do not wish to."

She nodded. "Thank you, Kokoum. Goodnight."

She had barely turned don her heel when his voice stopped her dead in her tracks. "But if my intuition is right, which it usually is, I'd say it has something to do with the captain."

Pocahontas clenched her hands and let out a frustrated growl. She hated when he did this. He had done it since they were children. He always seemed to know what was bothering someone even when the individual themselves could not see it. This skill was, in part, what made had made him into the warrior he had once been. Many people admired him greatly for it.

She had always only found it incredibly, vastly, irritating.

"After all these years, I still fail to understand how you are able to do that."

He smirked. "A great magician never reveals his secrets."

This earned him only rolled eyes from his friend. "Will you ever grow up?"

Kokoum shrugged. "Perhaps. In times such as these, a person needs to be able to escape every now and then. Besides." he reached to brush another piece of her hair out of her face. "Only a select few are privileged enough to see me for who I truly am."

Pocahontas chuckled. "Maybe we have more in common than I first thought. Both of us have to put of a façade of courage for our people. We can not allow them to see us as weak." She reached over to place a hand alongside his face. "I find it refreshing to find someone I can talk to as an equal."

Kokoum began to shake his head. "but Pocahontas, we are far from equals. You are the daughter of our chief and I.."

"Stop." her response startled him, but he did as she asked. "While that may have been the case in our land, but here it means nothing. We are both servants to new masters. Besides," She squeezed his hand. "We have always been friends, have we not? That is more important to me than any social hierarchy."

Raising her hand to his lips for a kiss, the next words out of Kokoum's mouth were almost hesitant. "Pocahontas, I..." He sighed and shook his head."

Her heart went out to him. "What is it, Kokoum?"

He brought his gaze to meet hers. "Pocahontas, I know we haven't been reacquainted for very long and I understand if this is sudden, but I was hoping if we ever do get out of this land...perhaps..."

His voice had grown so soft that she had trouble making out the majority of what he was trying to tell her. "Kokoum, speak up. I can't hear what you're trying to tell me."

The warrior looked up in surprise. "You haven't heard a thing I've said, have you?"

A slight smile crossed her features. "I'm afraid not. You were speaking so softly and I-"

"Pocahontas!"

The couple turned to see another servant jogging toward them. Pocahontas recognized him as Aja, another member of her father's council. He came to a stop in front of them, his eyes flitting over to their joined hands. Not wanting to have rumors circulating within her tribe, Pocahontas immediately dropped her friend's hands from her grasp and turned to face him. "What is it, Aja?"

The older man offered a slight bow of respect before answering. "Forgive me, my lady, but your mistress is searching for you."

The amount of irony in that statement struck the native woman like a ton of bricks, but she simply nodded. "Thank you, Aja."

He bowed and continued on his way and she turned back to Kokoum. "What did you need to tell me?"

Clearing his throat, he only shook his head. "It not important." His gaze became concerned. "Although I am worried about you. You did have a run in with the captain, didn't you?"

When she didn't answer, he tipped her face towards his. "Pocahontas, answer me. What happened? It could not have been too traumatic. The captain is a kind man-"

She scoffed. "I have yet to hear a kind word come out of his mouth.."

His eyes darkened. "Pocahontas, he saved your life. Had you been sent to the copper mines, we might not be standing here having this conversation."

"I will give him that if I must. Otherwise he has proven to be nothing more than a thorn in my side. I have never met a more exasperating man in my entire life! Did you know that he was complaining like a child about his engagement to Lady Stone? You'd think the man was being led to the gallows!."

Kokum was silent for a moment and then. "Have you ever considered his feelings about this situation?"

A snort escaped her. "Please, Kokoum. What could there possibly be to consider? He mocks me to my very face. Why should I show him any respect when he shows me none. If he only knew whom he was dealing with..."

Understanding dawned on her companion's face. "So that is what you were so upset about. Pocahontas, listen to yourself. This is not who you are. You have never flaunted your position for the sake of power. Can you at least try to empathize with the captain? He is being asked to give up what he loves most."

"And what might that be?"

His answer chilled her to the bone. "His freedom."

_"Forgive me, your Excellency. You speak as though you've been enslaved."_

_His eyes narrowed to a glare. "Perhaps not with chains, but a betrothal."_

_She turned and looked away. "It is not the same."_

Kokoum was insistent. "How is it not? In a different way, maybe, but freedom is freedom nonetheless." His gaze turned down the hall. "You had better get going. Lady Stone is not a patient woman." He met her gaze once more. "At least try to be civil to the captain, Pocahontas. If nothing else, that he is your superior now."

She sighed. "I make no promises, my friend. But for your sake, I will try."

He smiled. "Good. Now off you go."

The princess threw him a smile over her shoulder as she hurried off and Kokoum felt his heart constrict within his chest. _If she only knew..._

...0000...

Abigail sat at her vanity, staring blankly into the mirror in front of her. Absently twirling a golden curl around one lithe finger, she allowed her mind to wander over the events of the day. She hadn't had this much excitement in a long time. Usually her days were filled with court appearances, artfully avoiding the advances of eager young courtiers, or, her personal favorite, shopping with her friends for the latest fashions. She had been mildly disappointed when not one of her so-called-friends had come to the banquet tonight. This was, after all, her engagement party.

The thought caused her to smile. Perhaps the reason they had not attended was that they could not bear to see fiancé without becoming absolutely green with envy. And why wouldn't they be? Abigail's smile grew wicked. John certainly was a catch. The perfect gentleman with deliciously good looks and just a hint of danger about him. What girl wouldn't be lucky to spend their life with him? If only he weren't _so_ perfect.

For heaven's sakes, the man had never even once looked at her with more than brotherly affection. Abigail understood that propriety was extremely important to her fiancé and wouldn't never even think of touching her before the wedding, but for goodness sakes, would it kill him to be even a little romantic? Looking down at the diamond that now adorned her finger, she placed her chin on her hand and sighed. He would be hers soon enough. After all, everything good in life was worth waiting for wasn't it?

She gave an impatient sigh.

She just wished waiting wasn't such a bothersome procedure.

A knock on the door to her chamber interrupted her thoughts and she looked up in surprise. "Enter."

Abigail let out of a sigh of relief when her newest servant entered the room. "Oh, Pocahontas. It's you."

The native regarded her with a questioning gaze. "Were you not expecting me, my Lady? I was told to come at once."

Abigail blinked a few times and then nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course. Forgive me, Pocahontas. I must have forgotten. I fear my head is not where it should be as of late."

Her servant said nothing, only moved further into the room. "Is there anything I can do for you, my Lady?"

Abigail was silent for a moment, as if contemplating what to do next. Finally she said. "Can I trust you, Pocahontas?"

Surprise flashed in her dark eyes. "Of course. Your secrets are as good as untold to me. What troubles you?"

The blonde sighed and stood, walking over to the large window that overlooked the grand courtyard. "Have you ever been in love?"

Pocahontas regarded her with questioning eyes. "Love, my lady?"

Abigail nodded. "Yes. Has there every been anyone special?"

The native shook her head. "I'm afraid not. My father always kept me quite well contained. I never had the opportunity to find anyone with which to share my life and my father was too busy with the war to arrange a match for me."

"How sad!" Abigail immediately crossed the room and took hold of Pocahontas' hands. "I do hope you will find someone here. Surely you have seen many of your people here."

She saw her servant's jaw tighten slightly. "I have indeed, miss."

Abigail immediately realized her mistake. "Pocahontas, I apologize. I spoke without thinking. It seems I have a habit of doing so." She squeezed her hands tighter. "I had hoped to be friends. You seem like someone I can talk to, something that I do not have much of. In fact, when it is just the two of us, I would like it very much if you would call me Abigail. Not 'miss', not 'my lady' simply Abigail. Do we have an agreement?"

Pocahontas couldn't help but smile. "I believe that is something I can live with."

...0000...

"Kokoum!"

The man in question turned to see his master coming toward him. "What can I do for you, John?"

The captain smiled upon hearing his name. "Good man. I see you're finally starting to listen to me for once." His smile faded. "I'm looking for Pocahontas. It seems I upset her earlier today and I simply wanted to offer my apologies."

Kokum turned his gaze to the west. "I just spoke with her myself. She was summoned to Lady Stone's chambers not a half and hour ago."

John did his best to suppress a groan. "Alright. Thank you, Kokoum. I'll see you later."

"Master!"

John turened to see Kokoum coming up behind him. "Yes?"

He hesitated at first, but then. "If I may be so bold, John. It may be best to wait a few days before speaking to her. She was still quite upset when I spoke with her."

He saw the captain grimice. "I hadn't thought of that. Thank you, my firend. Once again you have been the voice of reason when most needed." John patted his shoulder. "I'll do as you say for now, but I will offer my apologies the next time I see her."

...0000...

When Pocahontas entered her mistress's chambers the next day, she found Abigail once again seated at her vanity, trying to pull a brush rather roughly through her golden locks. Each stroke only resulted in a frustrated huff and more tangles than were taken out. Pushing back a chuckle, Pocahontas quickly set down the basket of clean wash she had brought with her and went to the future Duchess's side.

"Let me."

Abigail glanced up in surprise, but relief quickly covered her features. "With pleasure. I just hope you have better luck than I did."

Pocahontas chuckled. "I shall give it every effort." The brush now slid effortlessly through the blonde's mass of waves. "How is your father?"

"He's recovering. It's all so strange though." Abigail's gaze became distant. "My father was always a healthy man. Even when my mother died, he was the one to keep the manor together. Our doctor can't even figure out why he is so sick all of a sudden. I only pray he gets better. I don't know what I would do if I ever lost him."

Pocahontas was silent. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "They are doing all they can for him. Although it was a wonderful feast, was it not? Even when sick, my father knows how to throw a superb party."

"It was excellent."

"And only a week left and yet there is so much to be done? The guest list must be finalized, the cake ordered, my final dress fitting. How does one do it all so quickly?"

Pocahontas laid the brush o the vanity and watched her mistress in the mirror. "Is must be so difficult."

Abigail looked up at her. "Planning a wedding?"

"No." Pocahontas was playing the role of a lifetime. "Being next in line for such a title. No doubt it must come with great responsibility."

A great sigh escaped the heiress. "You have no idea. Simply the idea of it scares me to death."

Pocahontas was curious to see where this would lead. "The people must expect a great deal of you."

"Sometimes too much." The blonde turned her gaze to the mirror. "The people want perfection. They don't understand. They expect a perfection and I'm only.."

"Human?"

"Exactly." Abigail turned to look at her servant. "How am I to give them everything they desire? I may come off as someone who has it all together, but I feel so empty most of the time. Perhaps it's just better if I lead them to believe that I can give them what they want..."

For the first time, Pocahontas began to see the true Abigail Stone. Here was a woman who hid behind a mask of frivolity and superficiality. A mask that hid beneath it a young girl scared to take her place in this world. A girl afraid of failure.

A girl not vastly different from herself.

"May I speak, your grace?"

Her mistress looked surprised. "Pocahontas, you know better than to ask. We are friends now. And that means that you may speak freely when we are alone. Please tell me what you have to say."

She nodded. "I believe you underestimate yourself, my lady. You have such potential to make a difference t those around you. I understand that you are frightened. Who wouldn't be? But if you have the courage to embrace your destiny for what it could be, the impact you could have would be enormous."

Abigail said noting, only stood and embraced a surprised Pocahontas in a brief hug. "Thank you." she whispered softly. "You are the first person who has ever said anything like that to me."

Pocahontas couldn't help but smiled as she patted the other woman's back. "I only speak what I see."

Abigail had no time to reply for at that very moment the man of her desires and her servant's irritation entered the room in quite a hurry. The noblewoman hurriedly attempted to fix her appearance while Pocahontas did her best to make herself scarce, not an easy task as the captain still blocked her only exit.

Abigail's face immediately lit. "John! What a surprise! I wasn't expecting...that is...I never thought...Pocahontas, leave!"

She was about to do just that when John stopped her. "Not so fast. Pour Lady Stone a glass of wine."

Pocahontas did and watched with morbid fascination as the scene played out in front of her. When she handed her mistress the wine glass, Abigail let out a feminine giggle and smiled coyly. "Why Captain Smith, are you trying to get me drunk?" She sauntered closer to him. "You know that is really not necessary."

John only took her arm and steered her toward the back of her chamber. "Is that your bed back there?"

Pocahontas felt her eyes grow wide as Lady Stone looked up at her fiancé through hooded eyes. "Fresh silken sheets and newly stuffed with feathers."

John put his lips close to her ear. "Why don't you go warm it up. I'll join you in a moment."

Abigail's hand flew to her chest. "You wicked man!" She exclaimed. "Are you sure? We are to be married I less than seven days."

She gave her his most charming smile. "And we've been engaged for nearly ten years."

That was the encouragement the blonde needed. "Good point."

When she had gone, John turned his attention to Pocahontas, who was know trying to discreetly sneak away. "Please wait."

"Far be in from me to keep you from your newest conquest, Captain." She turned at the door. "Now if you will excuse me, I have other chores to see to."

"I told you to stop!" His voice was still low, but the edge was evident. "How dare you. You speak to me like that and then think you can simply walk away? You forget that I could have had you sent to the copper mines.'

Her chin rose in defiance. "And you, captain, forget that I am no longer your property. I belong to her ladyship, not you."

Johns waved it off. "it doesn't matter anyway. I only came to aplogize for my behavior the night of the banquet and to tell you that you are right in that matter."

She turned confused. "Excuse me?"

From the back, Abigail's voice rang out. "John, I'm ready!"

Pocahontas could see him grimace. "I'll be there shortly." he called. Then turning his attention back to her, he said. "Look, Pocahontas. I was wrong. God forbid the Duke does not survive, this manor will need a leader, bith locally and in court and, quite frankly, I'm not sure Abigail is fit for the job."

The person in question called again. "John, your engagement party is waiting!"

Pocahontas glanced past him. "You should probably see to her. After all, you did initiate this little tirade.'

"It was the only way I could get rid of her so we could speak privately."

She crossed her arms. "And why, pray tell, would you care to speak to me at all?"

He hesitated before answering. "For some reason, even unknown to me, you fascinate me, Pocahontas. I can't put my finger on it, but there is something that just makes me want to know you better. Tell me, were you a noble woman in your land?"

She failed to see his point. "And what difference would that make? There is certainly nothing noble about me now"

She caught her arm a she attempted to brush past him. "I would have to disagree. You have proven yourself to be noble and courageous in even this short time. You speak with a refreshing honesty, something many men of higher station would never dare to do. On top of the fact that you are a slave-"

"Ah yes. We can not forget that, now can we." She glared up at him.

John released her arm, but instead took her hand and held it lightly between his own. "Pocahontas, I can't change the past. You and I both know that. And even if I could..." he sighed and looked down at her finger entwined with his. "Even if I could, I'm not sure if I would want top." He took a step closer. "Pocahontas, I..."

"John!" Abigail's screech resonated throughout the chamber and John immediately dropped her hand. They both looked up just as Abigail stormed into the room wrapped only in a bed sheet.

"John, you storm in here wagering a full-frontal attack, so to speak and now you're stalling. I want to know why?"

If it hadn't been such a close call, Pocahontas would have been laughing at the stunned look on the captain's face. "Forgive me, Abigail. I didn't realize..."

Irate was even an understatement to describe his fiancée at the moment. "There's a stunning young woman lounging on her bed waiting for you. What was it that you didn't realize, John?" He began to stutter, but she held up a hand. "I don't even want to hear it. Before our wedding ,pack up some of that dried rat meat you're so fond of and have our catographer draw you a map of the female anatomy. Perhaps then you'll be more inclined to explore!"

If looks could kill, John would have been dead where he stood, but he only turned and fled the room without another word. Not that Pocahontas could really blame him. Abigail stood and watched his back retreating with a perplexed expression. Turning to Pocahontas, she asked with the pure innocence of a child. "Was it something I said?"

All she could do was smile.


End file.
